Chapter 9

I woke up in the morning well rested; the night hours went by easily. I smiled at the sight of yet another sunny day. After my daily morning routine, I joined Rosalie and Emmett for breakfast. We talked animatedly about our plans for the following week since fortunately they were both able to take some time off.

The rest of the day went by in a rush; we decided to hit the museums but only managed to visit The Australian Museum in the morning. It had an interesting collection of minerals and insects, but I admit that I was mostly fascinated by the aboriginal art exhibition. I bought a book about the Australian dreamtime and another about boomerangs. The last one definitely deserved Emmett's attention.

We took some sandwiches to Rosalie, since she only had half an hour to lunch, and had a little improvised picnic with her at Hide Park. Apparently Lord Cullen, "my Edward," as Mom liked to call him these days, was keeping her extra busy. She told us that they were planning the main store inauguration, scheduled for that Friday night. The other eleven stores across country opened to the public on the following Saturday. As it was, she had to supervise everything regarding the publicity for the event, which included her worst nightmare at the time, handling the models that were attending the opening, while following the meticulous instructions Edward gave her, and arranging the media coverage of the event. She was also already preparing next season's campaign, since they were having a late opening. I questioned myself how on Earth she was going to be able to take some days off, but managed to keep my pessimism to myself. Rosalie offered to drive us home so we went to the cinema afterwards to kill some time. We saw 2012, Mom's choice, and I couldn't help but think of better ways to spend eighteen dollars.

We arrived home at 5:30 and I didn't have much time to prepare myself. Fortunately, Edward wasn't taking me to someplace that required formal attire. I spent most of the day coming up with reasons to bail out of this. His countenance, the superior edge he had about himself and even the way I was affected by his look made me uncomfortable, although I scolded myself internally for that. That hint of arrogance was definitely a turn off, but still I couldn't make myself cancel. It was the cowardly thing to do because I knew that deep inside there was a touch of self-doubt that I loathed. I surely could handle a date with a man like Edward. I was also too aware that I hadn't been on a date in a while…since the Mike/Jessica episode I kind of closed myself to the world of romance. I realized they actually did me a favor, since Mike couldn't be the love of my life, not after I saw how long love could last and how deep its roots could be, since it thrived in the most unlikely ground, even in the distance. I owed this knowledge to Henry.

As I looked at my reflection in the mirror while finishing the last touches of very subtle makeup, I kept telling myself that this Edward "thing" wasn't serious. I knew that probably I wouldn't see him again after this vacation. The idea saddened me so I decided to push it away along with the thought that accompanied it: what's the point, then? Hopefully he'd be able to pull me out of my state of numbness.

I decided to wear a fitted pair of designer jeans, the only expensive pair I owned, and a white V neck shirt that showed grandma Marie's necklace, with a gray vest on top. Mom was surprised by the plainness of my outfit and tried to convince me to change even after I assured her that Edward told me to dress casually.

At 6.31 p.m. we heard the bell ring and mom started jumping up and down.

"Mom," I scolded her, "stop bouncing all around the place. If I didn't know better I'd say you're the one going out with Edward."

"Aren't you excited?" she asked. Of course I was, more than I cared to admit, but I kept the excitement to myself as I got up from the couch, where I had sat for the past ten minutes, waiting for Edward's arrival.

When I opened the door I was momentarily petrified at the sight of the most perfect specimen of the human species walking on Earth. He was standing there just smiling at me.

"Hello," he said in his perfect British accent.

"Hi!" I said a little over enthusiastically, blushing a little.

"I see you're ready to go," he said as he scanned me appreciatively with his eyes. He paused, looking at my feet, and smirked. "Do you have some tennis shoes?"

"Yes. Why?" I asked a little confused. Where was he taking me?

"I think you should wear them. Just trust me…"

I quickly changed into my black pair of Nike's and said goodbye to Mom and Rosalie. Fortunately Emmett was late getting home from work. As I closed the door I could hear Mom saying something incomprehensible. I'm sure Rosalie had to tie her to the kitchen table or something to prevent her from following me.

He smiled as I stepped outside the door, guiding me to a black Mercedes parked beside Rosalie's car. He opened the door for me like a true gentleman, and held my hand to assist me. The same warmth was still there. He silently started the car and we took off towards the city. I had no idea where he was taking me.

"So, where are we going?" I finally asked.

"Patience, good things come for those who wait," he answered with amusement. "By the way, you look lovely tonight," he added, eyeing me from the corner of his eyes.

"Thanks." And he did too. He looked nothing like our previous encounter. He was casually dressed, with jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt, and he had a relaxed stance. His lips seemed fuller than the last time I saw him, his strong facial features were lightened and his brown/dark reddish hair was simply out of control. It actually looked kind of cute on him, giving him a boyish adorable look. Only his eyes remained the same shade of emerald green that held the same intensity I felt before when they bore into mine. They were still unsettling.

"So what do you think of Sydney so far?"

"I really like it so far," I answered truthfully.

"It´s nothing like Washington?"

"No, definitely not. I like the warmth. Even the people seem nicer."

"They are. I really like the Australian people, they are real and relaxed. I have been here several times before and I make every effort to come back. Hopefully this new project will give me the proper excuse to come more often. Anyway," he sighed, "how long are you staying?"

"Not as long as I'd like."

"You're spending Christmas here?"

"Yes."

"A sunny Christmas... I haven't had one of those in too long..." There was a hint of sadness in his eyes that he shook off almost immediately. "You're a woman of many words." It was an affirmation that sounded a little like a question.

"I'm sorry; I guess I take after my dad that way."

"I'd imagine that. I've met your mother..."

"Are you teasing me? Or my mom for that matter, Lord Cullen?" I asked him, a little irked.

"Never." He was serious again. After a few moments of awkward silence, he asked me, "What kind of music do you like?" He gestured toward the radio. I finally paid attention to the background music and nearly laughed.

"Arctic Monkeys?" I said a little incredulously.

"It's on shuffle," he offered with a smile. His mood shifted so easily from intense to amused.

"I like them." I increased the volume when "Brainstorm" began. Somehow it fitted. I sang along because I knew the lyrics all too well thanks to Emmett and Guitar Hero 5.

"Are you singing?"

"No..." I blushed a little.

"It's a nice song, actually." He started singing along too. He sang quite well, but had nothing on me... he actually got the lyrics wrong a couple of times, which I found hilarious.

"It's not my fault they got their own lyrics wrong," he said jokingly.

"Right." And I knew that with one look those eyes could make you doubt your own existence.

"So what else do you like?" he suddenly inquired.

"I have an eclectic taste when it comes to music. What I listen to is mostly connected to my state of mind."

"I find it otherwise."

"How so?" I asked.

"Well, I feel that my mood is greatly influenced by the music that I listen to."

"But has it happened to you that listening to a sad song had the reverse effect on you? When I'm feeling blue, listening to a sad and slow song is actually soothing somehow. Like your heart starts beating according to it and you actually manage to quiet down a little. I tend to listen to some classic music, piano compositions mostly, when I need to calm myself. It's how I managed to go through med school without alprazolam."

"No songs with angry lyrics for you then?" he asked, half serious.

"It's more about the feeling than the lyrics. There are so many songs that seem upbeat and then if you listen closely to the lyrics they're actually depressing. I don't really know what to make of those," I told him truthfully. Drunk talking already, Bella?

"Name one," he said, effectively stopping the car and staring at me.

"Hum, I can't actually remember any..." Not right now...

"Right..." he chuckled. "We're here." His voice softened.

He opened the door for me and there it was: Sydney's Harbour Bridge.

"I hope you're not afraid of heights."

"What are we doing?" I asked him, though I had a pretty good suspicion about what he had in mind. I needed my fears to be confirmed before I went into full panic mode.

"Can't you tell?"

"I have an idea, but I need it confirmed before I actually start running like Satan is chasing after me," I said, taking a step back. I thanked God for the tennis shoes I was wearing.

He smirked and that was the only answer I needed. I took a few more steps back and said, "No way..." before his arms encircled me, and he held me against his chest.

"Bella, really, it's okay. It's really safe and the view is nothing like you have ever seen. Please trust me on this."

I didn't answer right away and had no intention of moving. It actually felt good being in his arms like that. I felt safe.

"Please," he whispered in my ear, his breath soft and warm against my skin. I inhaled his scent, sweet yet masculine, and it effectively uninhibited me.

"Okay, I can do this," I said, mostly trying to convince myself.

"Yes, you can. You won't regret it!" His tone was suddenly filled with excitement.

I looked to the side and there was a young man approaching us. Edward's arms dropped suddenly to his sides.

"Hi mate!" The man saluted Edward with a firm handshake. "Great day for climbing. You must be Isabella, right?!"

I nodded.

"I'm Conner Peterson and I'll be assisting you today during your climb."

"Nice to meet you," I said, stretching out my hand to shake his.

"Everything is ready for you, please follow me."

We followed him to a room filled with gear.

"Ok, so this is your Bridge Suit, it was specially designed for the bridge climb," Conner told us. "It can be worn over your own clothing. You can put it on now and we'll go from there."

It was a little baggy but we looked cute in a silly kind of way. I was still anxious and my body language must have given me away, because Edward never took his eyes off me.

"All right, so take these – they're your head lamps. We don't have much time until sunset, so you'll definitely need them. Now Isabella, Edward is already familiar with the gear, but you're not, so please feel free to interrupt me if you have any questions. It's very safe. I see that you're a little reluctant about this, but we have helped many people over the years to overcome their fears, alright?"

I only nodded.

"Good, so this is here is the latch and this is the slide…"

"You'll do fine," Edward whispered in my ear, reassuring me.

Conner continued giving us the instructions, concentrating his efforts mainly on me, giving a special emphasis on the safety aspects. He checked everything before we began our climbing. My knees were shaking a little, and their unsteadiness increased with each step we climbed up.

"I'm starting to doubt if this was a good idea after all; are you alright?" Edward asked a little worriedly.

"Yes, I can do it."

He stopped and held my hand between his.

"Yes, you can," he said in a caring and soft tone.

We stared into each other's eyes for a moment and my mind went blank. That never happened to me. I was pulled out of my near trance state by another male's voice.

Why does he have this effect on me?

"You'll have a great sense of accomplishment when you get up there, and the view is the best you've ever seen, trust me," Conner said a little too loudly.

We continued our climb up in silence. Conner babbled the whole time, either instructing us or giving away some trivia. About half way I started feeling more confident and risked looking around. The view was really something else and each step took us closer to our goal.

"We're almost there," Edward said.

A few minutes later we were on the highest point of the bridge in the metallic platform. The sun was setting and it was perfect.

"So, was it worth the effort?" Edward questioned me; surely my facial features gave me away because he had a smug look all over his face.

"Marginally," I said, trying to maintain a serious expression.

"By a great margin, I hope."

I inhaled deeply, almost roughly, trying to assimilate all that beauty before my eyes.

"I was afraid we wouldn't get here on time."

"Are you implying that I'm a slow climber?" I asked, trying to provoke him, to no avail.

"No, silly, I was afraid you'd miss this. It's the best time of the day to climb. You still have a few last rays of light spreading lazily over the water and the city, and then when the sun finally sets and night has its wicked way over day," he chuckled, "everything lights up. Sydney is vibrant at night, and this is definitely the best place to see it."

I turned west, leaning slightly over the handrail, to watch the sunset. Edward embraced me, my back against his chest, his massive arms over my own. His hands found their way over mine on the handrail.

"Is this okay with you?" he asked against my right ear.

"Yes." And it was, it actually felt right. It hit me then how much my view of him had changed in just a couple of hours. I questioned myself if it was right for me to allow a man I hardly knew to invade my personal space like that. His gesture felt so personal and intimate, but I didn't have it in me to turn him down. Actually, I craved his touch and the fuzzy sensation it brought.

He leaned his head against mine and sighed loudly.

"This light compliments you even more than I expected. You're so beautiful, Bella. Thanks for doing this with me. Would you allow Conner to take a picture of us together?"

"Sure."

"Conner, can you take a picture for us?"

"Sure, mate. Smile for the camera!" Connor said while taking a series of pictures. "You look great!"

"Will you get me a copy?"

"Of course." Edward paused for a second and then changed the subject completely. "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat. What do you have in mind?"

"We can't have a formal dinner up here, but after a lot of bargaining I was able to get us a night picnic. How does that sound to you?"

"Can we do that?" I asked Conner.

"Not usually, but we agreed to make an exception today."

And then I saw it, a few feet ahead sat a basket over a red towel. Its corners were held in place by what seemed like little round aquariums, each with a candle inside. Even though the wind was surprisingly mild for the height, the containers kept the candles from blowing out.

"So what goodies do you have in there?" I asked excitedly.

"Nothing too elaborate. I'd love to have some wine, but sadly no alcoholic beverages are allowed up here."

"He did try though…" Conner said.

Edward eyed him, a little annoyed at the interference. Conner got the message though, because he stepped back, giving us some space.

"Unfortunately, we can't have as much privacy as I would like. I'll keep that in mind next time." Edward's voice was low and purposefully seductive. Was he hinting that he was going to ask me out again?

"So tell me more about yourself. I don't know much, only what I was able to find out through Rosalie. You were so quiet over dinner; I have to admit was a little taken aback by it."

"What do you want to know?"

"Let's see…" He hesitated. "are you seeing someone back home?"

"No, I'm not. But I guess the answer to that was fairly obvious; I wouldn't be here with you if that were the case."

"I suppose you're right." He shifted, a little uncomfortable. "And what do you like to do with your free time?"

"I don't have much free time, to tell you the truth, because when I'm not working I have to study, but I try to read something other than technical books."

"What was the last book you've read?" he asked.

"The Physician by Noah Gordon, and now I'm in the middle of Saramago´s Blindness," I said, remembering that I hadn't yet been able to finish it.

"I only saw the movie, very uncommon story. I liked the irony of having the white blindness as a representation of the darkest and unknown facets of human nature. How did you interpret the end, though? I had a discussion about it with my sister Alice but…"

"Don't ruin the end for me, please," I interrupted him.

"Right, you haven't finished it yet." He chuckled, clearly amused.

"So what about your sister, she's the person behind the a.m. concept, right?"

"Yes, Alice is great. She's a year younger than you and she's just starting now. My mom is really the person behind it, she's the one with the experience, but Alice is really working hard to make her idea come to life."

"You're proud of her," I stated.

"I am. She's been a little lost before, but I feel that everything will get better now." His eyes darkened a little, not following the tone he purposefully tried to make cheerful. I decided it was best to change the subject.

"And you have a brother?"

"Yes, Jasper is a little older than I am. He's actually Carlisle's first son. He married my mom when I was ten years old, but they dated for a long time before that. My father died in the same year my sister was born. She never even met him, so Carlisle was the only father we've known."

"I have to ask you this, and I'm sorry for my ignorance, why do people call you Lord Cullen?"

He laughed.

"Because I'm the youngest son of an Earl. Carlisle is the Earl of Avon. And on my biological father's side I'm inheriting a title of my own."

"Right. It's just that everyone treats you with such reverence. I mean, 'Lord Edward Cullen' is kind of a mouthful, don't you think?"

"But I'm Edward for you," he said, looking me in the eyes and tracing a finger lightly over my left hand.

Very smooth…

"Not Ed or Eddie?" I teased him.

"No," and he was serious about it, his lips pressed firmly, almost pouting. I burst out laughing.

"You're so cute when you're mad."

"It´s not funny, my sister teases me with it all the time." But he was smiling now.

We continued talking throughout our dinner, and night finally had its wicked way over day. The city was indeed vibrant, and the reflection of the moon and the city lights in the waves below us created an ethereal effect.

We talked about everything and nothing; the conversation flowed effortlessly between us, ranging from trivial to meaningful in a heartbeat. I found out that he graduated in economics from Oxford University, more out of necessity than of pleasure, for the reason that he was expected to take care of the family businesses, to which he was endearingly attached. I made a conscious effort to avoid that particular topic, because I had no interest in knowing how rich he was. In addition to the beautiful face, he possessed a very intelligent mind, and he was fully aware of that fact. There were moments I found his smugness a little insufferable, but then he would say something so wistful or sensitive that it gave him a whole new dimension and made me falter. There is a thin line between confidence and smugness, and after that day I didn't know how to categorize him.

The "dinner" itself was really great, except for the caviar he forced me to taste. I tried to be subtle about it and sipped a little bit of water to force that particular bite down my esophagus. He had the audacity to laugh at my disgusted face. I defended myself, arguing that if he knew how it was made, he'd feel the same way -- which made him laugh even harder. His laughter seemed open and sincere.

Have I misjudged him?

"Here… try this," he said seductively, unwrapping what it looked like a chocolate truffle.

It was truly delicious; the flavor spread subtly over my tongue as it slowly melted in my warm mouth.

"It's divine, thank you."

"So are you."

"That's a little cheesy, but I'll ignore it since you've done well, at least so far," I taunted him.

"That's really kind of you." He stared directly into my eyes like he was trying to decipher the code to unveil my soul, then added, "thank you for coming with me tonight. I'm really proud of you. I've said it before, but you are the most dangerous kind of woman." And he was serious.

"Me, dangerous?!" I laughed. "I've been told before that I have a great right hook… Have you been talking to Emmett about his black eye? I told him he had to make up something better other than I fell down the stairs. No one believes it anymore."

We both laughed, and then a heavy silence followed. I was looking around, still overwhelmed by the beauty surrounding me, as it was too much to get accustomed to, but Edward never took his eyes off me. He was studying me, that much I could tell.

He was the first to interrupt the silence around us.

"Are you free tomorrow night, Bella?"

Oops, I was not…

"Actually, I have plans," I admitted sheepishly.

"Oh," was all he said. His face fell, although he tried to disguise it.

"I have tickets," I said pointing to the illuminated Opera House in our background. "I'm seeing Haydn's The Creation. I have great seats!"

"And can't you postpone it? I'm sure I'd be able to get us tickets for Saturday, if you'd like." His voiced faltered a little.

"I really can't. I invited a friend to come with me, because Mom doesn't appreciate the style, and I really can't cancel on such short notice." I would never be that inconsiderate to Henry.

"A friend?" he asked a little incredulously, "As in a male friend?"

Was he jealous?

"As in an old family friend, yes," I answered calmly. I didn't want to get into details and, honestly, I didn't feel like I should.

He looked away, his demeanor cold, and said, "We should probably get going. It's getting chilly and we have a long walk down."

He got up right away and helped me to do the same. I had paresthesias in my feet. I tried to move them a little to help the blood flow without letting go of his hand. He looked at me questioningly.

"I can't feel my feet."

"Sorry about that." But he wasn't, not really.

Although I was a bit annoyed by his behavior, I decided to enlighten him about my plans with Henry.

"Edward," I squeezed his hand a little too tightly, "it's not like that."

"It's not like what, Bella?" And with the way he replied, I knew for sure that he was angry.

He was a little infuriating himself. I breathed in slowly, to smooth my tone of voice.

"He is a friend, and he is over seventy years old."

"Are you going to the concert with your grandfather?" he teased me.

He definitely could have been that, I thought to myself, but answered instead, "He was an old acquaintance of my grandmother and is a very dear friend of mine."

He realized I wasn't joking, so he decided to change the subject to something lighter. I knew, nevertheless, that his ego was still wounded, but I had no intention of helping it mend. It was probably still big enough for both of us.

We climbed down along with Conner, who had managed to chaperone us almost unnoticed the whole evening. He was a great vector of conversation. We said our goodbyes and I thanked him profusely for making such a wonderful experience possible.

In the car silence surrounded us, interrupted only by the background music I wasn't familiar with. I decided I needed to speak. I didn't usually find silence disturbing, but this time I wasn't comfortable with it.

"Thank you so much for the lovely evening. I have to admit that although I was afraid in the beginning, it was worth it. I was positively surprised, which doesn't happen often for me. I'm not too fond of surprises."

"I'm glad you liked it," was his only response.

He turned left to a street I was familiar with; he stopped the car at the end of it in front of Emmett's home. I unbuckled my seatbelt, glancing at the car's digital clock. It was a little past midnight. I was unsure of what to do next, but he effectively made the decision for me. He got out of the car, walked around it, and then opened my door, holding out his hand for me. I took it silently and we walked to the house with our fingers intertwined. I felt my heart tightening with that tingling sensation of nervousness. His skin was so warm against mine and I was already feeling deprived of his touch, because I knew he would soon leave me and that it would be for good.

I stopped awkwardly at the front door, looking intently into his eyes, trying to find a solution that could never be found there. They were unintelligible, like everything about him. With his free hand he lightly traced the curve of my inferior maxillary, following the exterior oblique line. His hand stopped when his thumb reached my right ear and traced its outline gently. The rest of his hand found home over my occipital bone, his long fingers holding a handful of my long hair. His eyes never looked away from mine.

"You're so, so beautiful," he said, swallowing hard. "I really want to kiss you right now."

He looked at me, questioningly, giving me the time to back away if I wanted to. I didn't. My heart accelerated as he leaned his head slowly towards me and his lips brushed gently against mine, once, twice, until they parted and molded perfectly against his. In the beginning our tongues were timid, like they were testing each other, teasing one another, and then they grew demanding and urgent. As he deepened the kiss, both of his hands were holding my hair, while mine found their way around his neck. I don't know how long we stood like that. He tenderly pulled away, giving me a few small pecks in the lips. He exhaled soundly and a smile grew on his face. He was, like me, a little breathless.

"I have wanted to do that since I first met you," he nearly whispered, stroking my burning cheeks with his thumbs. "Can I call you?" His eyes were so intense and bright even under the shadowy street light.

"Yes," was all I could say.

He kissed me softly once more and turned around, walking toward his car. I stood motionless as I watched him walk away, my heart constricted in my chest, for I knew I would soon be seeing him walk out of my life for good. I almost regretted meeting him, for he was the kind of man I could fall in love with.

I heard him start the car as I carefully closed the entrance door behind me, praying for everyone to be asleep already. I had no such luck -- I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard Rosalie's voice somewhere in the dark.

"Okay sister, spill it!"

AN:

I'm really, really sorry for the delay. This chapter is a little longer than usual and I really had a hard time writing it. Sometimes inspiration just vanishes (and real life gets in the way).

There were five kind reviewers that found out where the date was going to be and, as promised, they had an early preview of the chapter. I have to thank them for their quick feedback; they are ShadowDancerUrami, medward, o0S0o, LiLi82 and April246. Also, although xxdawnbreakerxx didn't get it right, she was so sweet I just couldn't say no to her and she deserved an early preview as well. I need to express my gratitude to all of these ladies for their kind opinions - you managed to quiet me down a little.

As always thank you Scooterstale for putting up with me! Really, you're the best Beta ever!

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, obviously!

Finally, I've said it before, my life revolves around your reviews so please make me happy and let me know what´s on your mind!

PS: I'm working on a new story in collaboration with . It'll be posted as soon as we have a few chapters ahead. It's very different from this one: vampires & Sci-fi. If you're interested you can add me to your author alert list.